


The Boy from Apartment 402

by DemoniAnophthalmia



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, I'll edit it eventually, Incomplete, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Adults, Reader has lived in the building for years, Reader is a Senior in High School, Reader is a scaredy cat, Reader is friends with Ashley Campbell and Chug, Reader is older than Sal by three years, Sal has a Jersey accent lol.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemoniAnophthalmia/pseuds/DemoniAnophthalmia
Summary: A weird kid moved into Addison Apartments right after your neighbor was murdered.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Side note: InteractiveFics keeps changing (Y/N) to Nudoru while I edit, so if that name pops up, sorry!
> 
> Parts of this story contain direct quotes from the source, all characters and sources belong to Portable Moose.

You didn’t know Mrs. Sanderson all that well.

You knew she lived in one of the apartments upstairs with her husband, and sometimes you would even see her around the building. Always in brief glimpses; sometimes talking to the maintenance woman in the dingy hallway about unclogging toilets, or that greasy looking guy that lived next door about their shared interest in a child’s show about talking ponies.

You once even stood next to her when you were checking your mailbox on your way to school and exchanged pleasantly hushed “Good Mornings” but that was really the extent of your contact with her.

However, even if you didn't know her that well personally, her gruesome death still chilled you to the bone

Perhaps it had more to do with the fact that it happened yesterday, in the same building, only a floor up above your own? 

* * *

Waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of a shrill shriek was not an experience you were eager to relive again. At the time, you didn’t dare get up from bed, and clutched hard onto your faded sheets. You strained your ears to see if you could hear anything else; you heard stomping, distant voices, as well as the sound of people arguing.

The whole building clearly has been awoken by the ruckus.  

A few minutes later the sounds of sirens pierced the silence, and you could see lights flashing from your window across your room.

The light from the living room was turned on and you could barley see the dim light from under your door. You heard your mom and dad mummer to each other in low voices and the front door opening. You got out from bed then to see what the hell was going on, and took in the scene: there were a pair of policemen blocking the entrance to the main hallway, their uniforms crisp and free of wrinkles, as if they were ironed shortly before they were called. 

They turned their skeptic gazes to your pajama clad form and instructed you to sit down with your parents. They asked a few questions, your whereabouts a few minutes ago, how well you knew Mrs. Sanderson, and so on. Once your family and yourself were cleared of any doubts of foul play, they skimmed through the situation, sparing you the gruesome details. It didn't help much; you were all frozen in sheer horror.   

Of course Mrs. Sanderson’s murderer wasn’t silent about the deed, you all heard her chilling scream. The police were called much too late though, and they weren’t exactly sure if the perpetrator got away.

‘Does that mean they’re still in the building?’ you remember thinking. After your parents and yourself were questioned, they left as quick as they came and you went back to bed.

Not that you could sleep or anything like that, but your bed provided a bit of comfort. Lying awake and staring at the ceiling, it was almost like just another normal isomniatic episode.

Getting up the next day provided to be a difficult task.  

You couldn't help but feel incredibly vulnerable in your own apartment. You were just expecting the perpetrator waiting just around the corner, for that exact moment when you let your guard down enough so they could slit your throat from ear to ear.

Unfortunately, while you would have loved to move to another location (preferably one that was free from homicides) you just couldn't bring it up to your parents! Not when this was you're last year of high school, and already halfway through the year. Your parents would never allow it.

You’d have to stay put by then, in the same apartment complex where your neighbor was just murdered.

The thought weighed heavily in your stomach.

* * *

You heard a knock at the front door, and you stiffened. You were completely alone in the apartment, and your parents were in town shopping for groceries. You would have loved to have gone with them, hell, you even asked! Sadly, your parents are extremely strict when it came to school work and you had a project that was due the day you came back from winter vacation that needed to be done.

Regardless if someone was murdered above you or not. Protesting only managed to get you scolded, because the “Nice police men were working extremely hard to keep (you) safe.” ‘OK mom, guess it never occurred to you that the killer might come back?' You thought, a bitter smile etching itself across your face. You have to admit, your parents were a bit too optimistic at times.

The knocking was louder this time, whoever was out there really wanted to get your attention, huh?

Yeah, as if you were crazy enough to actually answer the door.

But the knocking continued.

You stopped writing, ‘What if it’s the police? What if they caught the guy?’ You pushed yourself away from the worn out desk and got up from your chair, walking out of your bedroom slowly. ‘What if the killer is trying to lure me out?’ A voice in the back of your mind whispered.

You paused, maybe you should bring a weapon with you, just in case. You walked towards the kitchen as silently as you could, and rummaged through the cabinets until you found what you were looking for; a hot pink box cutter. You held it in your dominate hand and did a few stabs in the air as practice. Slowly inching towards the door, you looked through the peep hole. ‘If they try and make a grab for me I’ll stab them in the eye and run away.’

You psyched yourself up and waited.

After a few minutes, you figured whoever was knocking before, left.

You huffed, ‘Ok, there isn’t anything to worry about, no cops no killer-’ you flinched when you saw a shadow lazily pass across the wall a foot away from your front door, along with the soft sound of footsteps. You stayed in place, unmoving; you could still hear them, they knocked on a door further down the hallway.

‘Maybe whoever is knocking needs help…?’ Your curiosity got the best of you, and you slowly opened the door, and peeked out side, turning your head both left and right. 

A glimpse of blue that disappeared around the corner caught your eye.

“Uh, excuse me, do you need help or something?” You called out nervously, whoever it was didn't answer right away.

A few seconds later, two pale hands grasped the corner of the peeling wall and a face soon followed, peeking out at you curiously.

They had blue hair, and you couldn’t see their eyes because they were wearing an off white mask.

A mask.

Your grip on the box cutter tightened. 

They lifted their right hand up slowly giving a lazy wave.

‘Hell to the fuck no.’ You never closed a door so fast in your life! You locked it and made a mad dash for your room, closing it shut and locking it as well. The house phone was in the living room, and you sure as hell weren’t going back there.

What if the killer broke down the door?!

Guess you’ll be staying there for a while.

 

* * *

About thirty minutes later you heard the front door unlock and let out a sigh of relief. “M-mom? Dad?” You called out, still refusing to open your door. You could hear talking, and a voice you didn’t recognize. People don’t usually come visit your family. You’re all a bit recluse, but it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Miss Rosenberg would visit you family from time to time...

It probably was the police then, you could tell them about the weird person walking around knocking on the doors.

“Hun, come on out we have a new neighbor~!” Your mom sing-songed excitedly.

Well that’s just extremely weird, as well incredibly unlucky. Who just decides to move into an apartment building after all that shit that happened not even twenty four hours ago? Were they even warned about it?

You got up from the corner of your room where you spent half an hour huddled in fear, set your box cutter on your desk, and cautiously opened the door and walked out. You made sure to close it so no one could look in.

 “-my daughter, she’s a Senior at the same school you will be attending.” You heard your mom say, seeing the opportunity that was given to you to introduce yourself, you turned to greet the new neighbor only to stop short. 

You made eye contact with the same freak who was playing ding-dong-ditch with you earlier. You jumped back into your bedroom door and clenched your teeth in an effort to keep from screaming out-loud, and they all looked at you like you were crazy.

You stared at the pig-tailed girl who stared back at you with thoughtful blue eyes.

“H-hello.” You nodded at her, while still standing near your bedroom door. She lifted her pale hand again, and in the same creepy fashion as before, waved.  

This silence was pretty awkward.

Your dad cleared his throat, one of his many habits “Well, why don’t you both go out and get to know each other?” You looked at him incredulously, “Dad, I don’t think that’s-”

“Nonsense!” You're dad walked up to you and gently pushed you towards the front door, the girl following behind silently. “You have a new friend here to keep you company now, you don’t have to worry about being alone. I have to speak to your mother.” Your dad shared a look with your mom who was now uncharacteristically quiet.

“B-but!” The door was closed in your face and you just stood there, ‘What the hell was that for?’ You stiffened when you heard the girl shift behind you.

You slowly turned to face her, still wary.

“Hey, my name is Sal.” She scooted closer to you and held her hand out to shake, (not that you noticed or anything) you were startled at the fact that they weren’t actually a girl, but a boy.

You sure as hell didn’t expect such a low, quiet, almost gravelly voice to come from someone who was 5’2, sporting bright blue hair and pigtails.

He cleared his throat and you noticed you were just staring at him now.

Yeah that’s a bad habit. Oops.

“My name is (Y/N),” you looked away and shifted your weight awkwardly. “Sooo…” As you rocked back and forth on your heels, you took the liberty to take in his unusual appearance. 

From what little you heard your mom say, he was going to your school, so he was probably about your age.

As for what he was wearing; it appeared to be an old but well loved black sweater, red skinny jeans with rips at the knees, and blue sneakers. He also had piercings; two black studs on his left ear and one on his right.

As for that mask. 

It was hella unnerving. It muffled his voice a bit, but you could still understand him. Up close you could see it was cracking on the right side, and it was a shade darker than the rest of the mask.

“My friends called me Sally Face, I just moved in with my dad from New Jersey.” He continued seemingly ignoring your blatant gawking. Well that explains the slight Jersey accent, interesting.

“Sally Face?” You parroted back, “Why’d they call you that?” and he rolled his eyes, “I guess I didn’t exactly have the most decent friends to be honest.” 

You only felt a bit guilty, seeing as you haven't exactly given him the warmest of welcomes. To be fair, with everything that happened, you were a bit jumpy.

“Bullies?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation going; he seemed to relax in that moment, and he nodded solemnly, “Once they started calling me that I figured that if I owned up to it, the assholes couldn’t use it against me anymore.”

Well shit, this boy was as tough as nails.

You felt your lips curl at the edges, and you also felt yourself relax. “That’s actually pretty... cool.” You looked down at your shoes for a moment, “So, what’s with the mask?” You cringed at how rude that actually sounded, “Uh, sorry it just looks really…”

Sal didn’t answer right away, instead he took a finger and pressed it in underneath his mask, lifting it up a bit. At first, you thought he was going to take it off, but he just ran his finger over the edge of it.

“It’s a prosthetic.” He drawled, as if he heard this question millions of times before. Which considering now, seems to have been the case.

The sheen in his eyes dulled, and he stared pointedly at you.

The way he said it made it sound like you hit a nerve, and you instantly regret asking.

“Er, have you met any of the other neighbors?” You changed the subject, and Sal shook his head. “This is the first floor I actually went to, and you were the only one who opened your door.”

You walked towards the elevator and he followed, “I don’t usually leave my apartment much, but I know for a fact there’s more teens in this building than just myself. One of my friends actually comes over sometimes for tutoring sessions with this boy..." You trailed off as you pressed the button to the first floor and watched the elevator doors close.

“Sorry about the whole thing earlier,” You began, from the corner of your eye you watched as Sal shook his head. “Something bad happened yesterday night and I’m pretty spooked about the whole thing.” That seemed to have caught his interest, because he turned to face you fully now.

“What happened in 403?” He asked suddenly, and you shivered. The doors to the elevator opened, and you walked out with him. “Don’t be so loud.” You whispered, “I’ll tell you when we’re alone.” You subtly nodded towards the detective that was writing down furiously in his notebook down the hallway. Sal, seemingly understood and dropped it.

“So Mr. Addison lives here,” You stopped in front of a door with a mail drop. “He’s the owner of the building, he’s really nice and will make you tea if you ask for it.” You knocked on the door and were greeted by a pair of eyes.

“Well hello (Y/N)! How are you-Oh dear! What a frightful -uh- pardon me. Let’s start over.” Mr. Addison closed the flap, and you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing.

Guess you weren’t the only one creeped out by Sal’s appearance, huh?

The flap opened again and Mr. Addison cleared his throat, “Well hello (Y/N) and young sir, new resident of Addison Apartments, room 402. How may I be of service?”

“Hey Mr. Addison, just thought we’d stop by and say Hi,” You explained. Sal was now standing next to you, a bit too close to comfort you would say, and he seemed to be trying to look past Mr. Addison. “How do you know who I am?” Sal asked, sounding a bit confused.

“I know all that takes place within these walls, sir. You’ll do good to remember that.” Perhaps to the untrained ear, it would have sounded like he was warning Sal to not do anything stupid around the apartment complex, but the way Mr. Addison worded it made you uncomfortable.

‘What if he knows what happened to Mrs. Sanderson?’ You're thoughts were disrupted when Sal blatantly asked Mr. Addison if he could come into his house.

“Heavens no. I’m afraid that I’m quite particular about my privacy. I’m sure you’ll understand.” That was fair, Mr. Addison was one of the more secretive of the adults in the building. You’ve lived here since you were a kid and you never saw him leave his room.

“Sure,” Sal said with a shrug. You sensed the conversation was over and bid farewell to Mr. Addison.

“There isn’t much else down here, the mailboxes are down the hall near the front entrance, as well as the bulletin board.” You started walking back towards the elevator, only to notice Sal was walking down the hallway towards the detective with purpose. “Sal?” You followed behind him and he stopped right in front of the detective.

“What’s going on?” Sal asked, you were a bit surprised, guess no one told him what happened after all? With all the police running around outside, no wonder he was curious.

“Hello young man. You just moved in today, correct?” The detective glanced at you for a second before reverting his attention back to Sal. “Yes sir.” Sal nodded, seamlessly playing the part of “epitome of innocence”.

“I already spoke to your dad,” The detective admitted, “seems you two were out of state when everything happened last night.” He wrote in his notebook, “Story checks out, that’s good. Try not to get in our way for now, okay? We’re investigating a serious crime.”

Sal was silent for a few moments, “Was it murder?” your jaw almost dropped. ‘What the hell? You don’t just ask that, you stupid kid!’ Sal didn’t seem to notice your obvious discomfort with his question, and the detective himself also looked quite surprised.

“I can’t talk about that.” The detective looked as uncomfortable as you felt. “Bye then.” Sal turned on his heel and walked away towards the other end of the hallway.

You stood there for a few minutes before following him. Guess you weren’t going to show him around after all, the kid seemed to march to the beat of his own drum.

That was even more evident when he knocked on Mrs. Gibbson’s door before you could warn him, that old lady didn’t have a nice bone in her body. The door cracked open and you were suddenly wafted with the smell of cigarettes and greeted by the sight of a haggard face.

“Yeah, what do you two want?” Damn, her voice were like nails on a chalkboard, “A little early for trick or treating, isn’t it?” She snarled at Sal, then slammed the door in both your faces. You could still hear her grumble lowly under her breath behind the door.

“Bitch,” You muttered, and walked back to the elevator, Sal following close behind you. The doors closed, and you both just stood there in silence.

“Sorry about that, I swear the rest of us aren’t as hostile.” You apologized, and Sal shook his head again, his pigtails smacking him back in the face, “It’s no problem.” he said.

“You live on the fourth floor right?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He nodded, “So have you met Lisa yet? She’s the maintenance lady, she has a son who’s about your age.” He looked at you in a way that made you believe he raised an eyebrow.

“If you look here,” you pointed towards the slot with ‘B’ written next to it, “This is the last floor; the basement, and that’s where Larry and his mom lives. Unfortunately, I don’t have a card with me so we might as well look for her so we can ask for one, and you can meet her off the bat.”

He seemed to think about if for a moment, then agreed with an “Ok.” You reached your hand out to press a button, in that moment Sal reached out at the same time and pressed the button to the fifth floor while you pressed the button for the third floor. Your fingers brushed his own when you pulled your hand back, “H-hey! What was that for?” You asked, startled by the fact that he would just press that button.

“I haven’t gone to that floor yet,” He shrugged, and you gripped the bar attached to the wall. “You shouldn’t have pressed that!” You felt your legs shake, feeling a bit sick as the elevator sluggishly moved it’s way up.

“Why not?” He asked, fully turned to you now. It felt a bit like he was looking right through you in that moment, you tried to calm yourself down

“It’s under construction, it’s not s-safe.” You sputtered, you weren’t exactly lying to him, but that wasn’t the only reason you were internally freaking out.

The fifth floor was rumored to be haunted, and you rather not piss off whatever was lurking around up there. Not to mention it’s been under construction since you moved herewith your family, and never was completed; all construction on the area just stopped for whatever reason.

When you mentioned this to a boy named Chug, he suggested it was due to the fact that there were “ghosts” of the previous tenants that lived up there. 

The adults didn’t believe him, some of the teenagers were skeptical. You didn’t completely disregard Chug’s explanation, you still had to think reasonably. But it was safe to say you believed him to an extent.

Sure there was a chance that he was just trying to scare you with tall tales, but you still didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of walking around the abandoned floor.

Especially with what happened last night.

Sal was still staring at you for some reason and you suddenly felt embarrassed. You weren’t over reacting or anything like that, this was a very bad idea. The elevator finally came to a halt, and the doors creaked open. Sal walked right out of the elevator, but you stayed in place, frozen.

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, his blue eyes staring at you in an almost challenging way. “You coming?” He asked, and you shivered, “W-well, maybe i-if-” The elevator shook suddenly and you scrambled out of it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The way he said it made it sound like he was making fun of you, and you scowled at him. You looked around warily, taking in the sight of the rotting floor boards, the chipping wallpaper, and the smell of mildew that assaulted your nostrils. This place has clearly seen better days, and while the Addison Apartment wasn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes, it wasn’t as bad as this particular floor. Sal looked around curiously, like a child who was walking around a toy store, and ran his finger against the wall.

He lifted his finger to reveal a thick layering of dust on the tip. He clicked his tongue and walked closer to a sign on the wall to the left of the elevator that read;

 

**Notice:**

**This floor is currently being renovated.**

**For your safety, please make your way to the nearest exit.**

 

 

Clearly this place hasn’t been renovated in years, there were dust bunnies on the damn dust bunnies themselves!

Sal walked ahead to the nearest door and you followed behind him, (too close for comfort sure, but you were freaking out internally, OK?) The door had a plaque with the number 503 on it that was covered in a layer of dust. Sal reached out and turned the doorknob, making a sound of displeasure low in his throat when it didn’t open, “Locked,” he murmured, and he jiggled the knob a few more times before he gave up and moved to the next one.

He walked towards the next door, being careful to not step on the planks of wood that were strewn across the floor. You walked over them carefully avoiding the nails sticking out of them. “Sal, I don’t think we should be here, we could get in trouble.” You were about to reach out for his shoulder to stop him, but stopped short when the door with the crooked plaque 504 opened when he turned the knob.

He turned to look at you over his shoulder once more, and you could practically sense the smugness. ‘What is up with this crazy kid? He just waltzed right in there!’ You thought as you watched him walk inside the dark room. You almost decided not to walk in with him, but the hallway was creepy as hell and at least you wouldn’t be alone in there.

You walked in, ignoring all the warnings going off in your mind. It was really dark in there, the only light was coming from the dimly lit hallway, and you almost bumped into Sal mid-step. As you waited for your eyes to adjust Sal called out, “Hello?” For a moment you thought he was talking to you, only to realize to your horror, that you weren’t alone.

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone lived up here.” You grabbed Sal’s arm tightly as you shook in place the fine hairs on the back of our neck stood up.

In the middle of the room, rocking upon a pile of dirty, faded newspapers was a man. His skin was pale and blotchy, his clothes were faded and muddy, as well as tattered at the ends. His face was gaunt, his mouth was obscured by a thick black beard, and his eyes… it was almost as if he didn’t have any.

They were like two dark soulless sockets.

The man flinched sharply at Sal’s voice, and seemed to rock in place even faster. “Hello? Sir? Are you okay?” Sal, concerned now, tried to walk closer to the man but you held him in place.

“ _You shouldn’t have come here_.” The man rasped out, “I’m sorry. I was just getting to know my new neighbors and-” Sal started, only to be interrupted by the man.

“ _A dark place, this building_ ,” The man gave a shuddery breath “ _Horrible things happen_.”

You gripped Sal’s arm tighter, feeling your nails dig into the skin, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Are you sure you're okay?” Sal asked as the man seemingly stopped moving.

You felt a cold shiver faze right through you and you heard the door behind you slam shut. You screeched and pulled Sal to you, wrapping both your arms over his shoulders and burying your face into the back of his head. 

Sal gasped, his arms flared out comically, before he gripped your own, pulling them away after a few moments.

He looked around, his eyes scanning the area. The door behind you was indeed closed, and the man that was sitting in front of both of you disappeared without a trace. “What the…” Sal and you both jumped when you heard knocks coming from behind the door.

Thankfully, you didn’t scream like a banshee this time, however you don’t think you’ll be able to part with Sal’s arm for a while.

“(Y/N)? Can you let go of my arm for a second?” He sounded flustered, and you shook your head, “P-p-please…” You felt like you were going to cry any second now, and he tightened his own grip. “Come on then,” he signed, and pulled you over to the door next to the one that shut closed. He tried opening it, but it stayed shut. “That’s weird, the bathroom door is locked.” Sal pulled you across the room towards another door that was boarded up.

You didn’t want to think about why, honestly all you wanted to do was get the fuck out of here!

You began pulling Sal to the front, and he let you. The door opened easily, and there was no sign of anyone being in the hallway. You didn't stay a moment longer and quickly walked towards the elevator again.

You stood at the far end of the elevator, while Sal stayed on the other side. ‘He’s not scared, how is he not scared!?’ You were close to blacking out, and Sal didn’t even look phased by the ordeal at all.

He pressed a button and you felt the elevator lurch, and as if sensing you're unease, he said, “Don’t worry, we’re going to your floor right now.” You stayed silent. Your legs were shaking and you had your arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to keep yourself anchored to reality. When the elevator stopped moving, you bolted out. Sal followed you behind “Wait! I’m sorry (Y/N), I didn’t think-”

You stopped, your back facing him, “I really don’t want to talk about it, OK? You should go meet the neighbors by yourself. I’m going home.”  

You walked towards your apartment and didn’t look back.

He didn’t follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd I posted some of my unfinished work! I'm both sad and excited to show it to anyone who bothers to read it! There's a lack of Sally Face x Readers, which is a shame because it's such a good game with interesting characters and art work.
> 
> I loved watching Youtubers playing Sally Face, I started writing this in High School, and just got around to posting it. I'm in College now, lol. Safe to say, Sal was bae back then!
> 
> As always, my work will stay incomplete, and I don't give anyone permission to use my work in their own fics. Please respect my wishes, plagiarizing is no joke and shouldn't be practiced.


	2. Chapter 2

You were in your bedroom now, sitting on your bed with your knees under your chin. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there, it feels like it’s only been a few minutes, really.

After you came back home you were greeted by your parents, who seemed really curious about your day with Sal. You kept it short and sweet, saying you met a few neighbors and walked around the building. You didn’t stick around long and made your way to your room, locking yourself up and making sure the light was on and the window was covered.

You haven’t eaten dinner yet, and while you were really hungry, you weren't sure if your stomach could handle it right now. You glanced at the clock and frowned, seeing that it was now close to midnight. You didn’t want to go out there, in the dark or otherwise.

Not after what--

Did you really see what you think you just saw? 

It feels like it was a dream, or some kind of hallucination. You could remember all the details of the damn apparition so clearly, though.

It made your head hurt.

‘This is so freaking stupid, it’s all that kid’s fault, if he hadn’t pressed that damn button I wouldn’t be stuck in my room jumping at every little sound!’ You grabbed your pillow from behind you and clutched it close.

_You can’t blame him for everything though_ , your mind whispered back to you.

Reluctantly, you agreed, to some extent. You were already jumpy to begin with, what with the murderer still on the loose, and Sal was just curious.

Still, you feel like you both did something that you shouldn’t have, and saw something you shouldn’t have.

You thought back to what the man said, that this building was a dark place, and that horrible things happen here. It made you think about Mrs. Sanderson, and how she died not too long ago. You had this feeling as if that wasn’t the only bad thing that happened here.

Yet, you don’t distinctly remember anything ever happening to you before. You don’t remember ever seeing anything weird around the building in all your years of living here, until today.

“ _You shouldn’t have come here_.” 

The sentence brought shivers down your spine. You weren’t sure if the man was talking to the both of you about entering that specific room, the floor, or the building itself. Perhaps he was just talking to Sal, who just moved in that day.  

But whose ghost was that even? You never saw that man in your life, so he had to have died before you moved here… did anyone else know about this? You wondered, and instantly thought about Chug, who tried in vain to convince the adults that paranormal things were happening on the fifth floor. Well, if you were the slightest bit skeptical then, you believed with all your heart now!

‘I should probably talk to Chug, maybe he knows something about this whole ordeal.’ You felt chilled to the bone about the whole thing, but for some reason you felt like you had to get to the bottom of it. You would have laughed if it wasn’t so terrible, you sound like that bimbo walking into the basement in a B-horror movie.

You looked at the clock again, you should probably go to bed now, but you don’t think you will be able to sleep soundly tonight. You ended up going to your desk, and booted up your dusty old computer. Perhaps if you searched on some reports on the Addison Apartments you could find some useful information?

...

Well that was pointless. You searched up the Addison Apartments on the web, all you could find was a clip from the newspaper in which they talk about Mrs. Sanderson, and some old ads. 

You clicked next at the end of the search engine and ended up on a page that talked about a family that used to live in Addison Apartments. It was a missing person’s case from 1987, apparently a girl who lived here went missing along with her parents. They found their boat in one of the lakes nearby, but they didn’t find their bodies.

You stopped reading, suddenly feeling as if you weren’t alone in the room. You stood up to close the shades of your window and looked around, feeling unsettled. “That’s enough internet for today.” You pushed yourself away from your computer, turned it off and headed to bed.

Not that you’ll be able to sleep or anything tonight.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, you did manage to fall asleep last night. However, you were groggy as hell when you woke up and without having to look in the mirror you could already tell your eyes were red.

You pushed yourself up taking noticing your sheets were on the ground, and you left the light on last night. As childish as it sounds, you felt safe knowing you were sleeping in a well lit room instead of one that was obscured by darkness. You got up from bed and got ready for what you were about to do.

You had to go see Chug and ask him about his own experience with the ghost on the fifth floor, and maybe see if he has any idea on who that ghost could possibly be.

It was unnerving, the thought of walking out in the open was just… You looked towards your desk, noticing the box cutter you left before. ‘Maybe I should bring it with me, just in case.’ You can’t kill a ghost with it, but surely you can inflict some damage if that killer tried attacking you right? Right. You made sure it was retracted back into it’s base and slipped it in your back pocket.

...

You didn’t have to ask your parents permission to leave or anything, but you did tell them you were going to be walking around the building.

You were sitting at the table, eating your breakfast slowly. You were thrumming with energy internally at the moment, but you tried to keep yourself composed on the outside.

“Is something on your mind, (Y/N)?” You heard your mom ask, and you looked up to see her standing beside you, coffee mug in hand. Your dad was putting away the food items, but seemed to be listening in as well.

“Not really? Why?” Guess you weren’t as composed as you thought. Your mom set her coffee mug on the table and sat down. “You seem to be thinking hard about something, and you keep scowling at your breakfast. Surely my cooking isn’t that terrible, right?” She joked, and you barely managed a smile.

You threw caution to the wind, and asked “Do you guys believe in ghosts?” Both of you're parents looked at you, incredulously. Of course they would. Your parents don’t believe in that shit, what were you thinking?

“It’s just that… never mind.” You started eating your breakfast a little faster, knowing what was going to come. “(Y/N), have you been reading scary stories again?” You shook your head in disbelief.

When you were younger you were a huge fans of  reading the series, _Scary Stories to Tell at Night_. Funny enough, you’d read them in broad daylight, but you would never read them at night in fear of the monsters described in the book coming out when everyone was sleeping.  

You were extremely interested in the paranormal when you were younger, but you just chalked it up to being a kid who wanted to be “edgy” and “cool” back then. You used to boast to your parents on how you'd be a Ghost Nabber one day. 

Now? You wouldn’t even listen to scary legends Chug and Ash would fire at each other sometimes, opting to block it all out with a romance novel instead. ‘Kind of funny how all this crap is happening now,’ You thought to yourself wryly.   

“No, mom, I don’t read that stuff anymore, I was just joking around.” You finished your breakfast and stood up, your dad waved you off as he picked up your plate.

“I’ll clean this, have a good day (Y/N)” Your dad nodded at you while he took a sip of his own coffee.

They pretty much just let you go without so much as a second glance.

You would think they would be a little more concerned, but you guessed that since there were policemen walking around the building they thought it was safe for you to walk around alone. 

You shook your head and made your way to the elevator. Chug lived on the third floor, right above your apartment. He didn’t go out often, kind of like you, and he believed in the paranormal, that’s where the similarities ended though.

You didn’t consider him a friend, per-say but he did hang out with you sometimes when Ash wasn’t visiting. He liked to hang out by the vending machine in the basement, waiting for it to be restocked every morning so he could get his hands on a chocolate bar or something. You would both hang around the hallways in the afternoons, he usually had some form of sugar to be pigging out on as his prize for the day.

You entered the elevator, and pressed the button. You felt like you had a bunch of rocks in your stomach. This whole situation just seemed so surreal. When the elevator stopped, and the doors opened you walked out, feeling relieved when you spotted Chug right away.

“Chug!” You waved at him, and practically bounded towards him, he seemed surprised. “Oh hey (Y/N), what’s up?” He bit into his chocolate bar and chewed with his mouth wide open.

Mmm gross. 

“Hey Chug, I wanted to talk to you about something,” You began, he shook his head in understanding,“About the murder that happened right? Scary stuff, I don’t know much about it though.” He took another bite of his chocolate bar.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, “No, that’s not it. Yesterday I saw something, and I’m not sure who else I can go to to talk about it.” You heard the elevator door open from behind you, and footsteps. You didn’t pay attention to that, but you noticed Chug looking at something over your shoulder.

“I saw a ghost, a freaking ghost in one of the rooms on the fifth floor yesterday!”

His eyes flitted back at you, surprised, then he laughed “Knew it! I knew I’m not crazy. Ha!” He was ecstatic, you gotta admit you feel a bit ecstatic at the fact that you weren’t alone in this regard too.

“So you saw that old man too?” You asked, “Old man? No, I just think that’s that homeless dude who sleeps up on five sometimes.” He kept munching on his chocolate, and it was now all over his cheeks.

“But I did seen lots of stuff! Crazier stuff than just that old bum.” You weren’t convinced that the guy you saw wasn’t a ghost, seeing as he just disappeared without a trace.

“Like things moving on their own and weird noises and stuff. You know?” He finished, and you nodded, “The door closed behind us, and we heard knocks.” You admitted, “Yeah, I keep trying to tell everyone and no one ever believes me.”

You put your hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry Chug, I believe you! I saw the damn thing, for pete’s sake.” You waved your hand in the air, “Aw thanks (Y/N).” He smiled at you.

“So what was it that you saw there?” You let go of his shoulder then, and he thought for a moment. “Oh, I did see a girl there once.” A girl? You didn’t see any girl, a gaunt man with a beard was a far cry from some little girl.

“A girl! I thought it was homeless guy’s daughter but she just disappeared!” He took the last bite of his chocolate bar, looking satisfied. “That’s why I used my key to lock the bathroom shut tight. It’s too scary.”

“You have a key to 504?” Oh, so that’s why the bathroom door was locked before.

You’re not exactly sure what got into you in that moment, (you were never the adventurous type, or one to stick your nose into any sketchy business) but you were suddenly extremely interested in the idea of going back there and seeing what was in the bathroom.

“Yup. Found it on the ground.” He pulled a key out of his pocket then. It was rusting at the edges, and had a little tag that had a picture of a skull on it. “Say, why don’t we go check it out together?” You asked, feeling a little braver knowing that you weren’t the only one who knew about the hauntings.

Chug sputtered, “No way! Not going in there. Ghosts live in there!” Damn it, ok worse case  scenario might be that you’ll have to go back alone. You could probably convince Ash to go with you, though.

But you need the key first.

“Then how about you give me the key and I’ll go up there and check if it’s safe?” You put your hands on your hips feeling confident that he’d give it to you.

Chug shook his head, “Can’t just give you the key,” Why the hell not? “Buuuut maybe you can trade me something for it?” He gave you a sly look.

‘Oh, I see how it is’ You grumbled inwardly, knowing you didn’t have anything of worth on you at the moment. Your hand went to your back pocket, knowing you still had your box cutter on you.

‘Maybe he’ll trade it for this?’

You jumped almost a foot in the air when someone behind you suddenly spoke up, “If you let us borrow that key, I could give you...um…” You turned quickly and noticed it was Sal, he looked at you for a second, then turned his eyes back to Chug. ‘How did I not notice him?’ You backed away when he started digging his hands into his own pockets and pulled out something.

“How about a quarter?” He showed it to Chug, who instantly snatched it out of his pale hand. “Oh man! Heck yes! Here take it!” Chug all but threw the key at him, and walked away towards the elevator, stroking the quarter Golem style.

Both you and Sal were silent, both looking at each other. “What the hell was that!” You hissed, and he just peered at you from behind the hollow sockets of the mask.

He held the key by its tag, showing it to you before he pocketed it. He took a step towards you, and you inched away further, cautious. Sal’s eyes narrowed at that, but he stopped.

“Why’d you do that? I was going to get that key.” You bit the inside of your cheek, annoyed.

“I want to help you.” Sal looked down at his shoes, and kicked at the imaginary dirt. You sniffed, “What are you talking about? I don’t need help with anything, I just need that key.” You looked away from him awkwardly as you feigned ignorance.

“Why do you need it?” He asked, you both knew your reasons for wanting that key. No need to ask questions, so why would he bother asking?

You didn’t answer him, and he continued, “I need help with something, if you help me we can go upstairs to 503 together.” You could hear the smile in his voice behind that mask, you suppose it was his way of being nice, but if anything it made him that much creepier.

He tried a different angle seeing as you were bent on being silent, “Don’t you think it’s only fair that I be in on this too? I was with you when we saw that ghost. I know I just moved in here yesterday, but I should have just as much of a right to know what happened here as you do. I’m just as curious.”

‘He has a point there,’ Your mind whispered to you, and your resolve crumbled. “Fine, you’re right.” You both stood there in silence for a moment, “So, what now?” You looked back at him, and he seemed to be deep in thought.

“I need to know a few things about this building, let’s start with what happened in room 403.” You flinched, “Can we talk about this somewhere else? I don’t feel comfortable talking about this out in the open.” You shifted, and Sal nodded.

“I met Larry yesterday, I’m sure he would be interested in hearing what you know too.” You almost groaned in disbelief, how many people did this kid tell about the ghost?

“Ok, let’s make this quick then.” You followed him to the elevator, feeling nervous, you didn’t know Larry very well. Sure he was living in 1B with his mom even before your family moved to the second floor, however Larry had a really bad reputation around the building. You remember when Chug told you Larry apparently lit Mrs. Gibson’s rabbit on fire a few years back, and how he never heard Mrs. Gibson scream so loud. Ever.

While you lived here, he one time snuck into your next door neighbor's apartment, Charley. You didn’t see it happen, but you heard Charley hollering. You didn’t see Larry on the second floor as much anymore. All in all your parents didn’t want you hanging out with this boy.

Guess that’s all going to change now, huh?

The elevator doors slid open revealing the musty basement with it’s dingy lights and it’s seafoam green wallpaper. The basement was actually pretty clean (or as clean as a basement could ever be), seeing as Lisa was adamant on keeping her version of a hallway spotless.

You followed Sal to the door at the end of the room, shiny lettering on the door read 1B. Before he opened the door, you spoke up, “Wait, Sal, are you sure about this? What if I’m not aloud in there? Did you even ask?” You started firing questions, and Sal just blinked lazily at you.

“I’m sure neither Larry or Lisa would mind if you came over. Larry’s pretty chill, and he seems just as interested.” You raised an eyebrow, “Larry’s interested in ghosts?” You were doubtful, and Sal just shrugged and opened the door, waving you inside as if he owned the place.

You walked in, a bit surprised at the fact that it wasn’t as well kept as you expected from Lisa. There was a whole open pizza box next to the loveseat in the middle of the room, as well as empty bags of chips and cola cans. An interesting chest sat close to the front door.

There were a few pictures hanging on the wall, one was that of a sunset in some kind of tropical place, another was of Lisa and a much younger Larry standing side by side and smiling brightly at the camera. The last picture was of an elderly couple, that you assumed were Larry’s grandparents.

Sal walked towards the door that had a “Keep Out” sign and knocked the door. Not even a second later you heard someone from the other side yell, ”Yeah? Come on in the door’s open.” Sal opened the door and strolled in, you followed close behind him.

Larry sure as hell wasn’t expecting you, his eyes were wide, he turned his gaze on Sal, who looked back at him composed as ever.  “Uh, hey pal can I talk to you for a sec?”

You stood there awkwardly, both of them went to the back of the room (where you could see a staircase) and started talking in hushed voices and exaggerated hand gestures. Your eyes scanned around the room, taking note of all the paintings and painting materials. ‘Interesting, so Larry’s a painter, who would have thought?’ They weren’t reminiscent of the scary images on his poster collection, they were just some really solemn looking pieces.

Certainly not something you would expect from someone who looks like the walked out of a Hot Tropic.

Larry, you would describe as grungy as teenagers come. You haven’t seen him around in a while, but he hasn’t changed much at all, really. He got taller, his hair was longer and choppy at the ends and he had it pinned in the back with some kind of clip. He was also sporting a band t-shirt with the letters SF written in brown lettering.

Both Sal and Larry walked back to you, Larry looking the slightest bit peeved and Sal looking as enthusiastic as a boy with a mask could look. “Larry, this is (Y/N) do you know her?” Sal began, Larry smirked, “Yeah I do know her, you’re the chick who lives on the second floor, right? Next to the fat ass?”

Ok he sounds like an asshole. You shrugged one shoulder, “Yeah, sure.”

“(Y/N) do you know what Charley was doing the day Mrs. Sanderson’s was murdered?” Sal asked, and you furrowed your brows. Weren’t you supposed to be talking about the ghosts?

And what does…”What does Charley have to do with what happened to Mrs. Sanderson?” You asked, confused. Sal shifted in place, “Maybe you should sit down for this,” Larry nodded to the worn out couch in front of him and you took him up on his suggestion.

“Maybe we should start with what we know about the killer’s whereabouts?” Sal suggested, and you shook your head in disbelief. Apparently they’re both sleuths now.

“Shhh, not so loud!” Larry hissed out, “The killer is still in the building!” You had speculated that, that was the case, seeing as they haven’t caught him yet. The police claimed to have gotten there too late, but really how far can one person really go? Nevertheless, hearing it from someone else's mouth just sounded wrong.

“I saw it happen.” Larry looked you right in the eye then, his gaze unwavering. You were doubtful, and he seemed to catch onto that; eyes narrowing

“Are you high right now?” You sank deeper into the couch when he seemed to bristle at the comment. “I wish I was. That was some scary shit.” The look in his eye was something else entirely- he looked scared which was enough to convince you to at least listen, you guess.

“Well, what happened?” Larry hesitated, then looked at Sal for some kind of confirmation.

“Look, what I’m about to tell you isn’t a joke, it’s serious. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?” You nodded, and he took a deep breath before continuing, “Okay, so I was helping Mrs. Anderson with a clogged toilet. I was just finishing up when he burst in, yelling like a lunatic,” He leaned closer, “I know what you’ve done! Herman told me everything! You stupid bitch!”

You flinched, unnoticed to you, Sal inched closer to the coach. “She tried to calm him down, but before she could even get a few words out, he was slicing her throat wide open!” He shuddered, and took a deep breath again, “I was shocked, I couldn’t move, I was frozen by fear man! Just peeking through the crack in the bathroom door.”

Larry ran a hand through his hair, “Anyways, it all happened so fast and then he cleaned up quickly and left. I don’t know how, but he didn’t even see me.” You put your hand up to stop him, it was too much, but he continued. “I haven’t really told anyone else but Sal yet, not even my mom. Now, I don’t exactly trust you, but seeing as… look, I don’t think you’re safe.”

That confession chilled you to the bone, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. “W-what do you mean I’m not safe?” Your voice wavered, “You said he did it? Who?”

“It was definitely that big creeper from room 204, Charley. He was wearing gloves so I don’t think they got any prints or anything.” You almost choked on your own tongue.

“Have y-you told the c-cops?” 

He lived right next door.

Your family lived right next door to a killer.

You were all none-the-wiser.

“I tried talking to that detective, but he won’t listen to me without some kind of evidence. As if my word isn’t enough.” Larry huffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

 

You felt like you were going to pass out.

 

“(Y/N) we’re trying to figure out a way get to the bottom of this. But we need you to calm down.” Sal sat down next to you, trying to place a hand on your shoulder.

You edged away from it.

“Gi-ive me a-a minute, p-please.” You had your knees tucked under your chin, and you tried taking deep breathes, slowly calming yourself down. You could finally breathe normally after a few minutes of this, feeling a bit silly for breaking down like that.

You looked up to see both Sal and Larry looking at you in concern, "I’m sorr-y. I guess I couldn’t really handle it after all, hah.” You gave them a shaky smile in hopes of reassuring them.

You were all silent for a while, until you decided to speak up again.

“So what do we do now? The detective doesn’t believe you when you said Charley killed Mrs. Sanderson.” You tried to keep yourself as composed as you could, knowing now that you were living next to a killer.

“Well, we were hoping that you might know something, seeing as you live next to Charley and all.” Sal turned to look at you, his eyes shone with excitement.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but I have no idea what Charley was doing that day… I didn’t see him come out of his room at all.” He seemed to sag at that, and Larry cursed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all I got lol. I chopped it into two chapters because I wrote a lot and it was just easier that way. I do come back from time to time and edit this piece; it has a fond place in my heart for sure!
> 
> Whatever happens afterward is up to interpretation! 
> 
> However, like I mentioned in the last note, please do not use my work in your own fics, plagiarizing is no joke kids!


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